A planet that sings

On a planet that sings...

there are a relativity intelligent species descended from a long line of social hominid apes. These creatures are very diverse in culture and social groupings, skin pigmentation and other factors. They are sexual reproducers, who use sex in a variety of social ways.

They experience gender on a broad spectrum from a to b with a great many varying degrees of sexual and gender preference and traits. However for at least it's recent history the a.a end of the spectrum has been deemed "better" and have been the dominate force in most (though not all) in much of their memory, especially written myths, legends and history passed down. However with it being in the interest of some of the a.a group to erase, ignore, revile and demonize anything believed to be different than being a. 

This does not mean that the rest of those being on the spectrum are not interesting, important or inventive. Some of the greatest of the whole species have not be true a in gender, or sexual preference. However there are either not recorded, not passed on in written histories or accounts, works not displayed in galleries, have their memorial defaced for be somewhere other than a..

This bias does many things. It occasionally breaks out in to violence. Sometimes in the extreme. Being b; or not being as a as the cultures demands (demands vary greatly in different cultures and socio-economic areas) is an huge pressure and can explode in violence against other a.a's (fighting for dominance of non-a deemed people) or more commonly directed towards those deemed less, weaker or closer to b on the spectrum.

Interestingly non-a social hominid apes, though different are not weaker, per say. Some b S.H.A's are stronger, smarter and more talented than some defined as a.a S.H.As. 

Biologically it is the b S.H.A. that gestate and rear the young. If a b S.H.A. raises a child alone it is often pitied, reviled, and can sometimes be at the mercy of extreme violence towards the off spring it's self, sometimes leading to death of the b. Sexual consent and autonomy of their own bodies is occasionally allowed so long as this does not offend a powerful or successful a.a. individual. 

The conditions and rights for those deemed non-a differ enormously all over the planet. In some places non-a S.H.A's can vote, marry, hold office or power; though these rights are hard won with many victims and martyrs along the way. Some a.a  refuse to educate non-a's at all. They tend to breed and isolate b S.H.A's before full sexual and mental maturity has developed. Though this has no benefit to the offspring or the b S.H.A. The perceived power over the b S.H.A. elevates the standing with other a.a.'s.

In places where non-a S.H.A. give permission for more equality (until an a.a. pulls rank, either through privilege and or threat of violence) the fight for rights continues slowly. It would be heartening to say that their right to vote, marry and love who they wished had happen purely down to their own efforts, but this is not the case. There were two huge wars fought roughly 100 solar rotations ago and then again about 70. While non-a's were involved, fought and so on, predominantly it was those were regarded as a's who fought and killed each other in enormous numbers. this lead to the break down of many traditional a.a social and economic roles. This allowed non-a's to work, gain education, and be seen as capable and useful members of society. 

After these wars governing bodies did what they could to re-assert the roles and lack of right but non-a's fought and little by little they gained some rights and freedoms. This has lead to backlashes by those who are (or even those who wish to be) a.a.

Non-a's currently do not have the same rights and proclivities as those deemed a, or a.a. As a planet there is no equality, in fact speaking about this privileged position can still cause threats and insight murder. Many a's can see how rejection of a large percentage of the S.H.A. population is unfair (apes having keen empathy and understanding of such things). Some use this position to further the cause of those not born a's. They can see how the spectrum gives diversity and doesn't make their place on it less. They support and admire their b or non-a off spring. They have friends and bosses that are non-a and do not find this threatening or upsetting. They love these non-a S.H.A. and give them autonomy over their bodies and rights. Sadly this makes them targets for some a S.H.A's. 

These are strange and wonderful creatures, who are inhabiting this blue planet that sings.

Sacrifice

Sacrifice 

I am writing this blog in response (and agreement with another blog here) because I wrote an intelligent and rather eloquent response in the comments section that was eaten by the site/internet/computer beasties. I in no way shook my laptop in rage, I am a grown up! 

I will now try and remember the clever and beautifully smart things I said....

Firstly if you asked me if I made sacrifices, I would probably say I don't. Offerings sure, but sacrifice sound either like a dodgy business arrangement (scratch my back and I''ll scratch yours) or some biblical test of faith by destroying a person, animal or thing that is very important; I don't have any need to prove my faith to my Gods.

Yet sacrifice also means to offer. THAT I do all the time.

I feed my family, friends, fae and Gods (and Goddesses) on a regular basis. Sometimes in a ritual context but just as often just when I am cooking (baking in particular).

So animal sacrifice sounds like something I don't do (kill an animal to pleased, placate or bargain with those beyond the Veil) except that when I give offerings, make a dumb supper plate, put the fatty bits in a tree, in a way I am.

There is no blood on my hands per say. I wouldn't hurt or harm a pet, mine or anyone else's. Yet if I needed to take a life to feed my family, friends, fae and Gods, then I would take an animals life. I would take it as swiftly and painlessly as I could. I would honour their passing. Respect all it gave me. Growing up on a farm I saw the souls of animals up close and personal. While I wasn't allowed to hunt (not woman's work apparently) my step-brothers sometimes did, and their friends did far more often. It was not uncommon to find "payment" for hunting being hung up outside the door when we went out in the morning, be it a goose, rabbit, or in one case a bag of eels, (not bad eating though they did stink out the microwave for a while). I learned to pluck, gut and clean (women's work apparently) and eat all sorts of food.

Sacrifice (in the context of offerings) for me is a conversation, a connectedness. What I have I freely and lovingly shared with all those I love and care for in my life. It is not a burden. I always pay close attention to the food I eat. I never forget that I am eating something that had a soul or spirit and I engage with that.

There is a snobbish bitchcraft, holier than thou bunch of people on the pro and anti sides of this argument. Much of it stems different class systems in different countries (either the very rich or the very poor tend to hunt in the UK) and the generally snobbery of who is more witch endlessly irritates me. Witch is something you do. Not what you eat. 

If someone I knew was sacrificing animals (especially if was for ritual food) in a safe, humane and legal way (like rabbits or wood pigeons) I would totally get it and support that right.

This is not the same as animal abuse to use their body parts in spell work (I knew a guy in Crewe who neglected his pets to death and did just this, but because he did't snap a neck he felt he was and I quote "clean of the death". This is disgusting on every level.

Then we have the folks who respect any animal, except of course the human animal. They grant beingness to grasshoppers and fleas but can not find compassion or acceptance for the human spirit if they do not agree with their particular branch. 

For me the consuming of a meal in ritual context, the offering of what I have with others is a significant and spiritual thing. When I did the Hunter Journeying at the Hunter's full moon, eating venison was a very sacred and special part of that. It was not an abstract idea of "Stag" it was the meat in my bowl, in my mouth, in my body. 

The acknowledgement of the death in my life, from the yeast in my bread, to the meat and vegetables I harvest from the garden (many slugs died in the making of those beans) it connects me to the cycles of life and death. It roots me in the real, in the past and present. It teaches me, and my daughter who will always remember, that death is not some distant frightening specture we must avoid at all cost. It is a part life. It gives context and meaning. It is a sacrifice we will all one day make.

Bright Blessings xxx

(no this wasn't as good as the original but ho hum!)  

Fear of Flying

Fear of Flying

When you change your life for the better. Have an attitude shift or just radiate kindness, many great things happen. You know what else happens? It draws out the spiteful, the tyrannical and cruel. That light you are shining draws them as well as the good. They mock, bully and try and shame. For the longest time I thought that when people misunderstood, made cruel comments or hateful words that it was me. That I provoked this cruelty. In a way I did. Yet how other people view me, judge me by their behaviour and standards is not only not my fault. It isn't my problem. It can feel that way but I have come to the point where I let it go.
You can often tell their problem by their words.

If they say you are "fake" they are insincere.
If they say you are "a fad" they don't know their own path.
If they say you are "stupid" they fear being stupid.
If they say you are "less" then they feel threatened.
If they say "you can't'" it is because they can't.

A lot of my life I have come to points where I was opening up and shining only to be hurt by the cruelty of others. I could not see that it wasn't me. That my light, and my art and my words are worthy and unique. That if people didn't "get it" or "get me" that the fault lay not with myself but with others.
Some of the loudest voices, especially when I was younger were my family and friends. The ones you want to love and support you the most. I let go of all that pain, in dribs and drabs over the years. More than that if I don't have something positive, or at least kind I don't say it. I don't always agree with all the crazy ideas and schemes but I do not need to poop in someone else's paddling pool; especially when I know how devastating it can feel.
When someone I called brother told me I could never be an artist, not one that could pay the bills; I was crushed. I put down my brushes for nearly 2 years. I didn't even get angry with him. I just beat up myself for daring to dream I was good enough!
Funnily I don't see it that way now.
I see someone who was told he would never be an artist and he spoke the cruel words that were drummed into him.

I know now that I am worthy, even if he thinks I stink. I know know that what I choose and do that bring me joy are what I HAVE to do.

When some people see you flying, their instinct isn't to marvel at the wonder before them, it is often to shoot you down because they don't fly. When you are brave they bombard you with their fears, blame and guilty and if that fails then spite and malice. Yet if you keep flying, following your joy, their arrows look tiny. They look even smaller.

Bright Blessings xxx

The Storm

The Storm

Well the storm hit. That "something is coming" feeling was the death of my father-in-law yesterday morning. It was a long and weird day for all of us here. Yet there was a relief too. He has been sick for so long, dwelling in a place of neither living nor dying for years. This was his choice much as we tried so hard pull him into living, letting him go feels the right thing to do.
My daughter saw her first dead body. Though he looked peaceful, like he had fallen asleep without the snoring.
I cried, not at first. A silly thing on BuzzFeed set me off.
TK is doing well with it. Lots of deflection though. He is in fixing things mode. Yet we slept well for the first time in ages.
The rain that woke me about 6 am was not the storm I was expecting and I didn't mind it at all.
I have all this energy I want to do something with but I am hanging back and not cleaning like a crazy person, not organizing a hundred different things. I am just dwelling in my moment.
I sat and meditated about an hour last night. I burned a lot of citrus oils (I will keep that up for a week I think, good to let go of things.)
Here comes the rain again lashing against the window.

Lay in Rest

Goodnight, goodbye my friend

I pray you lay in rest.

Lay in happiness and peace

Lay in the light of your love

Let those who nourished your being

Liberate you in peaceful death

For all time, undoing all sorrows.

Goodnight, goodbye my friend

I pray you lay in rest

Lay in hush and comfort

Lay in the gentle dream of tranquility

Let those who sustained you in life

Liberate you in unity

For all time, lay in true rest.

The Rain

The Rain

"Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life." John Updike


Well it has been a wet and windy week. The slim sunshine fooled me into hoping I could get into the garden and cut back. We have been, as they say, under the weather this week in Witch Central too. TK; who gives healthy as a horse a run for it's money as the saying goes, had to drag himself to bed and stayed there for a full day. Headaches, nausia, dizzy spells, (unpleasant expulsions from the body). 
Poor Mini-witch has done bugger all school work this week but has had to endure looking after TK and myself instead! Still I don't think she has minded too much as when have been resting she has been deep in Middle earth.
Oh sunshine how you mock me. It has just broken through for a moment, but will it stay long enough to get on my boots, open the shed, find the extension cable, argue my caperbility with TK (I have nearly got this far three times this week) either TK won, or it rained.
Nope the sunshine was a fleeting moment of yellow crystalized joy, now gone.
I don't usually mind the mist and rain, I normally enjoy it. Yet my bones seem to ache. I feel the cold. (I never felt the cold). 
No, I don't know if it is the rain. Maybe it is the rocking my sore swollen belly as though in labour last night, but something is coming. Something like a storm. Something is coming.
Maybe the tatty nature of my front hedge is the least of what I should be worried about. Who knows.
I am not in a dark mood though. I feel rather up beat. Cleansed if you will.
If I asked my spirit guides what would they say? Something irriatingly crypt? 
Yup.
"Listen to the silence."
Thanks for that!
Daring myself to eat. I know I should I just want to delay that usual sensory pleasure. I have that taste in my mouth, like tin maybe.
Even my tea (Assam) was bloody awful this morning...
Time to ring the bells then. The singing bowls. The white candles. Burn the copal and pray.

Eggs and Apple

Eggs and Apple:

is the work place still no place for a woman?

Certain big companies (tech and otherwise) have made egg freezing available for young women who work for them (at a price).

In honesty I don't know if the companies really know why. It isn't so much that it isn't a good idea (younger eggs make stronger embryos with few problems). It is that the whole world of work is still a "man world" (this is historically ridiculous and inaccurate but by the Victorian era had become "fact". In an attempt to increase efficiency the whole notion of work was based on machines.) 

This idea still pervades our schools, higher education and "work" structure and ethic. The idea that time, how long you work for (in a measurable efficient way of course) and your quality (status, again in a quantifiable way), equates to your pay, and there for your "worth", continues to reduce, homogenize and belittle people (especially women and children). In this formula a woman is STILL paid less because her inherent assumed quality is less.

As a formula it would sit something like this. t x q = w

It is class and gender bias. If you start near the top your quality is perceived to to inherently of more worth than those beneath.

So how does this relate to eggs?

Well if you are a woman in the 21st Century, even in the Western "modern" world of tech, your "worth" comes down to your quality (how masculine you are perceived to be) and your time (how many hours do you put in).

This has meant that women in these companies and industries tend to have to carry one of two personas. "One of the boys" or "fem fatal". Mother's do not appear in general, mothering or being a mother is to "damaged" a woman. Mostly because it breaks the code of being the mysterious sexual aloof, or as "one of the guys" as possible.

This WHOLE system reduces people to parodies of themselves and everyone loses. If you can behave "like a man" (unemotional, detached, intellectually intelligent, swiftly decisive; though this is of course down to Victorian British ideals of masculinity) it is easier to work within these systems. 

The thing is, we are not machines.

We are complex animals that make systems and relationships with our space and each other. We are complicated eco-systems that affect each other deeply.

So when the question a young woman asks her self is: should I delay having children to further my career?

The question is not about why and how taking a year out in another deeply difficult and fulfilling field might altar her chosen path, it is about changing her status as a person within the company.

 

When the company answers: yes delay having children (at your cost) and further your career. 

The answer isn't about helping this woman get what she wants, it is about telling her who she needs to be in order to be respected.

The system it's self is so damaged and damaging that fails to see that it's solutions are actually part of the problem. From schools to Universities, with the ringing of bells (just like at the factory or clerks office) we have a system trying to make cogs.

Cogs. 

Yet we are people. Animals with hopes, dreams, and potential that is astounding given any kind of push. At some point the system will fail the you (and it will tell you that you failed the system) and discard you. For many people this is still while they are children. I know people who left school unable to write or hold a pen because he had ADHD and dyslexia (neither of which he was given any help with) and was given anger management instead. 

You don't make a good cog, discard. (Your quality is low, i.e. you do not fit the Victorian masculine ideal).

This work place system doesn't work. It still doesn't value human qualities. It has no place for compassion, deep communication, empathy, free creativity, long term sustainability. The women (and men) who don't work within this system, or struggle under it's misery daily keep being told "this is the way it is, it's getting better". Yet it is just patches, quick repairs for long term problems that only reinforce the idea that the Victorian male ideal for work, workers and the Great Machine. This is because the people at the top feel entitled to be there and have no interest in changing anything.

I believe that until we break this ideal (and I mean to bits) and adopt an more organic system like that of a forest, or ocean; women, and femininity still have little to no place in the modern work place. We are too shrill, too loud, to quiet, too emotional, too different. It isn't that we can't do the work, it isn't that we don't want to, it is just we still are seen as less the more feminine we are. And mothering is the most feminine thing we do.

How I make incense

How I make incense

I have a dyslexic and synthetic mind. Colour have sensations, tastes and smells and visa versa. I also have a very sensitive sense of smell, especially when I am hormonal (during pregnancy was a sick to the stomach by the most ordinary smell becoming over powering).

1) The beginning

So when I start to blend an incense I either start with a colour or energy I want it to have, or a base scent. What is it's purpose, it's energy goal? Once that is decided I move on.

2)Research

While I have been working with herbs and plants to make potions and perfumes all my life I like to balance my knowing with my knowing. I was about 6 or 7 when I ruined my mother's wooden pestle and mortar making "perfumes" in the garden. Man I got in deep trouble for that one. So I will start with a herb or scent (lemony, please says my brain). Then I research, I add other things that have the same lemonine or citrus scent to my list (things like balm, lemon verbena, may chang, petigrain, as well as citrus it's self.) Go through some of my 15 different herbal books (there may be more I stopped counting at 15) and make a huge list of what works with what. What does what I want it to do and how they react with each other in a big spider diagram in my notebook. A blend might take a few hours. It might take a few days or even a week to research properly. 

3) Making.

This a a creative process to me and I get out my herbs and oils (I have a Welsh dresser full of jars of all sizes, and when I am getting really serious, I get TK to get my massive grey box down too. I have hundreds of herbs and spices, resins and woods. I gather and dry a lot of my own and have friends with green thumbs give me giant bunches too! Then I sit on the floor with the cauldron between my knees and begin.

4) Testing.

If I am making a big batch or one I haven't made before I have my old brass censor burning on the table. This means I can add an ingredient. mix and add a pinch and see if it has the right smell or energy or both. 

5) Making still

I will shave wood and bark, crush leaves and mix the blend with my hands making sure the mix is not too big or small. If I am crushing berries (like juniper) they go in my marble pestle first then into my hand grinder. I refer back to my notes a lot and write down everything I add, If I start out with one teaspoon of something , then add another, or another they all get added to the list.

After I have almost added all I need I put the mix in a sealed jar. 

6) Take a break

I open the windows. Have a walk, a stretch. Make some tea. Clear my nose and the space.

At this point I may repeat the whole process if I am not happy with where an incense is in terms of energy or scent, or simply keep working and re-working it. It has to be right!

7) Adding the oils.

This is when I add my essential oils. Sometimes I add them to a medium and mix them through or just straight into the jar and give it a good shake.

8) Final Test

A little in my burner and then mini-witch and maybe TK (maybe not) get to try it and see if it seems "right". If it passes muster then it moves onto the next stage.

9) Amalgamate.

At this point I might add some crystals either to the jar or to the altar it is sitting on. 

10) Packaging

I measure out the right amount for one of my jars. Fill it and label it. Place it in it's organza bag and ask TK to pack it for postal!

And THAT is how I do it!
Bright Blessings xxx

The Power of Silence

The Power of Silence

 

I come from noisy people. We were all loud and musical. Every one shouted and screamed to be heard. We were not (as my mother posited) more honest than other families. There was always a bustle, a hum, a noises. High on drama.
I liked to be outside but outside on a farm is no oasis of silence. The noise is just different.
TK, my hubby, came from the opposite kind of family. No-one talks about anything, ever if they can help it. It took him a while to learn to talk and me a while not to shout (work in progress right?) but I am comfortable with silence in a way I could not have imagined as a child. I don't need music to block out my thoughts (other sounds on occasion because my neighbours are noisy) but I don't need to talk, or sing, or make noise to block out myself, or anyone else for that matter.
Recently we were in a taxi going to go shopping and after a short conversation me, TK and mini-witch drifted into silence. For us it was not awkward or uncomfortable just the opposite. The driver did not feel comfortable and felt compelled to play the radio. It was then that it struck me how comfortable we are with wordlessness, stillness and being with each other and how "the world" is not like that.
I still tend to babble when nervous but as I was sat here drinking my tea, in silence, it again struck me.
The contentedness of accepting a space and just being in it. I think I want to explore this wordlessness and silence in ritual. I think it will be interesting and strange but for me that makes it more compelling. Ritual for me is a ebb and flow of words and I enjoy the use of sacred voice (I have even taught workshops on it); but silence is not the opposite of that. It is the punctuation. The frames around the text, giving context and meaning.

*image is from Tarot of the Old Path by Sylvia Gainsford

The Hunters Journey

The Hunters Journey

 

Last nights ritual was a good one. One I definitely feel I will repeat with no loss to those participating.
In preparedness I made a venison meatball stew (this was because I thought the reasonably local Scottish venison was preferable to New Zeland venison). We all had a small amount before the ritual to "keep us going". I also got a dried oak leaf each and people either brought or found rocks and placed them on the altar. I also put ox-tail ( a piece each ) on a plate on the altar.
The incense was filling the space. Then I got everyone to slowly drum. Quite suddenly I picked up the red cloth used to cover the coven sword and wore this red veil. 
I then cast the circle and called the corners in the usual way. I then evoked the Triple Goddess into the women of the the circle. Then we called the Hunter.
Then everyone got into a meditation or journeying position. We started at a hearth of a round house as the sun was setting. Then as twilight moved over us we went out into the purple meadow. There night fell. Then the full moon rose and the White Hart came to us and bid us follow. Deep into the woods. Each person went deep into the woods following their own path. Meeting their own guides. Deeper and deeper. Some meet the Stag, some did not. All gained and lost something. Until it was time to come back to the meadow, then back to the hearth; and then to the circle.
Then we did a chant and drummed for a while. Then each of us in turn gave offering of meat and bone, forest and stone into my big black cauldron. Then we went outside with the cauldron and lit the fire and placed the offerings (wrapped in paper) on top. The flames were beautiful and though the moon had not come round to that side of the house yet we all felt something was listening as we repeated the chant.

We went to the other side of the house and TK took some photo's of the moon.
Then we ate the stew again, with reverence and new meaning.
The cake and cup were then blessed (again I wore the red veil) and the cake was consumed (bar offerings). The women then drummed and played. It felt good and hearty. Everything flowed.
Then we released the circle in the usual way. It was not long before I went to bed feeling better than I had done in days. 
I feel that though this ritual was placed perfectly in the wheel of the year, I also feel that it could be part of a three day journeying cycle, started with the Lord Arrawn, then the White Stage and then meeting his Lady.
Much was learned through journeying about the self and the inner worlds. I missed BG because I knew that he would have gained some much from this circle and I would have enjoyed watching him soar.
Bright blessings xxx

 

Walking Barefoot

Walking Barefoot

I am sure glad me and mini-witch didn't waste the last warm sunny day. This time last week we set out together. Had lunch, just us and even though it had drizzled some it was still warm. We decided to go for it anyway and do the barefoot walk. Some parts of it were gross (the cold shishy mud with bugs all over the water) but in general there was something precious knowing that this would be the last time in months I would walk any distance outside barefoot. Even the cold water was pleasureful. After we were done and we seemed to inspire some other's there to try it, we washed our feet and put on our socks and boots. How cosy and comforting they seemed. 

There was of course a flask of hot tea for us to enjoy. We breathed in the perfume of the late and vintage roses. Marveled at the textures of the planting.

Now there is "proper" rain, frost and thick fogs as well as wind that whips everything into spirals. I have the feeling it will be a very cold winter.

Yesterday we all (me,TK, and mini-witch) went and made faggots, sometimes called brushwood bundles from wood folks had cut down on the brown land. We didn't need many for tonight's ritual. 

For me I think my family are like socks. Sometimes it is gloriously free without them, even if it doesn't make it enjoyable. Yet when I get to go back to them it is warm and comforting, supportive and unassuming. 

I never understood people who thought their kids were in the way of their life. Or didn't enjoy talking and listening to them. Mini-witch has always been fascinating and funny. I enjoy her company. I didn't walk in my boots as she played around the barefoot walk, I got stuck in with her. Like if there is an option for face painting, then I get mine done too! I don't know why you wouldn't want to. I don't understand people who sit and watch (or don't) their kid rather than talking, playing, making stuff together. Maybe it is because I find these things enjoyable. Maybe it is because I care much more what my daughter thinks than anyone else. She might not remember it all. Yet I feel sure that some of it will stick. Whether it is magicking incense, or bread, dancing in the living room, or just cuddling watching documentaries or films. If she is passionate about something, I take the time to explore that with her, even if I don't always get it. She "discovered" The Lord of the Rings this week. I didn't ask her to, she just finished the Hobbit and searched the book shelves and disappeared with it. After reading about half of the first "book" she then watched the Peter Jackson first LTOR film as a compare and contrast. 

She has never been dull or boring. Sure she can be a pain, but mostly from NOT doing rather than doing. She is a bibliophile too, which makes me proud but I remember having to confiscate books at night so she would sleep, even when she was really little!

When she turns those deep dark knowing eyes on me and teaches me something wise, I respond with "Yes little Goddess."

I am so privileged and in awe of her. I always have been. Now when we sit down to dinner and she can tell me things I didn't know about beetles, snakes or maths, or Starwars or Batman or the world at large. We sit and talk about it.

Bright blessings. Enjoy the moon I know we will!

How to plan a Ritual

How to plan a Ritual 

Some people spend months planning rituals. I can either just plan and plan and write and re-write, or just have the bare bones in my head and know that it will "come to me" when the time comes.

Most of the time it does.

After a few sleepless/crap sleep nights I zonked myself out last night and still feel kind of crappy today. Any way I had some amazing dreams/visions so going with it. This is how I write a rite!

So first there needs to be tea.

No caffeine, no ritual, and pretty little anything else. 

Next comes the anxiety.

Who will turn up? How many people will I be working with? Will they all get along? Should I bake? How crazy should I clean?

Reality check.

This is where I take a deep breath and plan for the people I can guarantee being there. Do as much as I can and let go of the worry. It will be how it is meant to be. I am enough.

Bare bones.

Cast circle, call corners, evoke Lord and Lady. Right. Hunter's Moon, time of the dark morris. The Veil is very thin...more journey work. Let the Ghost stag guide you through the moon light...okay!

Stuff

What things will I need? What incense? I think I have some of the journey's one left. Food, should I get some venison as a sacred meal for post journey? Maybe some bread instead of sweet cake? What to put in the cup? Flowers on the altar? Herbs? 

OH an idea!

Should cast oak into a the cauldron. Should I have something burning in there, or be full of water?

"I honour the Hunter..something something...the meat and the bone....something...I honour the wild, the forest and stone. Oh me likey. Okay.

Stuff again.

So other than food I have everything else in. Maybe get some oak leaves? Some fresh herbs and flowers? Should I get them from the garden? Will it stop raining? 

The Final Bit

Okay so now I know what I am doing, what should I get the other's to do? Drumming? Incense? Fire?Okay I will talk it through with TK and I think that is it done!

Bright blessings. Enjoy the moon!

The Hunters Moon

The Hunters Moon

Last night and the night before I slept terribly. This is rare. If sleeping was a sport I would be a gold medalist. I thought last night might have been better as TK and I "unplugged" and logged off. I had been craving beef so we had steak and salad (with blue cheese sauce for myself). It didn't end up romantic evening but we work on wands and designs together harmoniously. My favorite being a Hunters wand, or Stag wand. I had not even noticed we are working up to a Hunter Moon. 

Today I will be fixing my house/temple protections and wards. I will mix herbs, seeds, salts and oils and scatter them around the property line. Feed my house guardians too. 

I also made a crystal meditation incense. One jar is still sat on my altar charging with my big points and a grid of tumbled quartz and citrine.

Off to fix lunch and sprinkle so magick.
Bright Blessings